Arousing Interest
by duvalia
Summary: SLASH. A series of oneshots revolving around whatever may 'arouse' Soap's and Roach's interests.
1. Sex Toys

**A/N: **I've come to the conclusion that there isn't enough Soap/Roach (or Roach/Soap) stories here, so I've taken it upon myself to remedy that. As if slash wasn't enough I decided to base each oneshot on some sort of kink/fetish (basically anything aside from boring sex on a bed). No epic storylines here. And I noticed I can only write _smut,_ meaning '_sex_ scenes' not '_love_ scenes'. Hah. I have no class.

**Warning: **This story contains explicit sexual content between _two men_. For some reason, this reads a lot _dirtier_ than my other ones. Maybe because I think f*ck is ultimately the best word to use in smexing.

**Prompt: **Sex Toys

* * *

Roach shoveled another spoon of cereal into his mouth, attempting to do so with as little movement as possible. He shivered as Ghost sat down across from him, the unbalanced table with its attached seats rocking a little too much for his liking.

"What's wrong Roach? You sick?" Ghost asked studying the young sergeant.

"Uh… no." Roach breathed out, but knew his face still looked flushed as he swallowed another spoonful of cereal. _Fucking MacTavish_.

"Fever?" Ghost put a hand to his forehead. "You're a little hot," he noted as he compared his own temperature to Gary's.

"I'm fine," the sergeant muttered as he swatted Ghost's hand away.

"What's wrong?"

Roach looked up to see MacTavish standing over him, a small twitch of his lips before the captain's face was once again a blank slate. Another shiver went down Gary's spine as his superior took a seat next to him, rocking the table once again. He was also definitely a little too close for comfort, but Roach ignored him and continued with his meal.

"Doesn't Roach look a little feverish?" Ghost noted.

"He looks fine to me."

Ghost studied Roach for a moment longer but seemed content with John's assessment and moved on, something the sergeant was more than happy with. "Did Shepherd assign the teams yet?"

"He left it up to me."

Roach stiffened when he felt a hand ghost over the hardness he was so desperately trying to will away. He worriedly looked over to Ghost, but the man didn't seem to have noticed anything as he continued his conversation with the captain. MacTavish had the same blank look on his face as he answered Riley's questions, despite the fact he had one hand under the table fondling Roach through his pants.

Roach couldn't help the small moan that slipped past his throat, but he turned it into a coughing fit before anyone could say otherwise. The other two men at his table looked over in alarm, genuine concern on the lieutenant's face, while he knew MacTavish's expression was a load of bullshit.

"You okay?" Ghost asked.

"Yeah, wrong pipe," Roach muttered, forcing another cough.

"You sure?" MacTavish inquired casually.

Roach nearly gasped as MacTavish squeezed him through his pants at the word _sure_. "Excuse me!" Roach yelled and ran to the bathroom before he creamed his pants. As soon as the stall door closed behind him, he unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants, leaning back against the wall of the corner stall. He wrapped a hand around his length, but stopped all movement when he heard the door to the bathroom open.

"You okay, Roach?"

"What about Ghost?" His voice sounded so needy, but fuck, he needed to get off.

"A good captain checks up on his men. He won't be looking for us," John replied smugly, the sound of his footsteps approaching the stall.

Roach shifted slightly, the action causing pleasure to course up his body and he let out a moan. He cried out as the sensation intensified, so much so he could barely stand up with all the pleasure shooting through his body.

"How long have you had it in?"

"Like you told me. I put it in after I showered last night," Roach barely managed, his senses in overload. "Just fuck me." He looked over to MacTavish who had that damn self-satisfied look on his face as he leaned on the stall door. In his other hand he held a remote control and his thumb was slowly turning the knob, raising the intensity of tiny vibrations occurring within Roach's body.

"Bend over," John commanded, his Scottish brogue deeper than usual.

Gary complied and leaned his forearms atop the toilet tank, presenting himself to MacTavish for the taking. "You fucking sadist!" He moaned as he felt the butt plug imbedded in his ass move deeper inside of him.

In response, John merely chuckled, slipped the stall's lock into place, and pressed up against him, the captain's obvious arousal pressing against his backside.

"It's fucking cramped in here," Roach complained as he felt fingers wrap around the flared end of the object up his ass.

"Your fault."

Gary struggled between his urgent need to get off and his lover's sadistic streak currently pissing him off. "I had no choice. Chemo's been sick all week; he's barely left our room."

"My room is always open," MacTavish offered as he alternated between pressing the butt plug deeper into Roach and pulling it out.

"Your room is. Too. Fucking. Far." A high pitch wail left his mouth as MacTavish extracted the phallic shaped sex toy with a wet sounding pop. Roach whimpered at the loss, suddenly feeling empty. "Fuck me," he pleaded breathlessly.

A hand covered around his mouth and MacTavish leaned forward, his breath warm on Roach's ear. "I didn't lock the bathroom door," he whispered. As if planned, at that same moment there was a squeak of hinges, signifying someone's entrance into the bathroom and two sets of footsteps echoed along the tiled walls. The sergeant nearly yelped when two fingers were suddenly thrust into him. "Don't want to get caught, do you?" John lightly admonished.

Roach glared at MacTavish, but the look on the Scot's face slowly turned his anger at the man into an unbearable need to be filled by him. John's normally clear blue eyes were dark and cloudy, reflecting just how much he was getting off on torturing his lover. And Roach got off on seeing the captain throw away his stoic military role and submit to lust driven passion.

"You hear that?" An unseen voice asked. Roach recognized the familiar accent as Archer's. Of course it had to be the person who was _always _aware of his surroundings no matter where he was. However, the question was followed by the distinct sound of someone taking a piss. "Ever hear of personal space?" The Brit muttered angrily.

Instead of a worded reply, the response he got was Toad's infectious laugh. "I'm just taking a leak."

"We're men, we don't have to go to the bathroom in fucking groups," Archer ranted.

Toad just laughed again, apparently pleased he'd managed to piss off his partner.

"Move over! There's twenty other urinals, pick one not next to mine!"

Roach gasped as another digit wormed its way inside of him. "I hope I'm not boring you," MacTavish whispered and inserted another finger. Gary moaned again, the noise mostly muffled by the hand still covering his mouth.

"What was that?" Archer asked his spotter.

"Someone probably picked up a hooker. Have to get it in, while there's still have time to _get it in_, you know?" Toad replied, happy for whoever managed to _get some_.

"He's calling you a whore, Sanderson," John murmured into the sergeant's ear and Roach shivered at the words, though the spray of running water as the sniper team washed their hands mostly masked their "conversation". Footsteps, then another creak of the door's squeaky hinges and the pair was gone. "I think you wanted to get caught," the Scot teased, slowly moving his digits in and out.

"Please John," Roach begged as he pressed back against the man for even more stimulation. As he had had the large sex toy up his ass for the past few hours, John's fingers definitely weren't enough to satisfy him, nor did they reach deep enough inside of him.

"Not enough?" Despite the inflection of the Scot's voice, Roach knew that MacTavish knew it wasn't. "_Are _you a little whore, Sanderson?"

"Fuck." There was just something so incredibly dirty about hearing John resort to such language. "Please…" Roach pleaded and he looked over his shoulder as the Scot made quick work of his belt but only opened his pants as much as he needed. John pulled his fingers away and for one agonizing moment Gary felt empty… until MacTavish pressed into him, burying himself to hilt. Roach arched his back in pleasure, causing John to gasp as his muscles clenched around the cock inside of him.

"Fuck. I didn't think you'd still be so tight after having that thing up your ass for so long."

"Just fucking move," Roach whined, loving the feeling of being so completely filled. John didn't need to be told twice and promptly obliged his lover, setting a quick and steady pace; the sound of their flesh slapping together threatening to echo off the tiled walls. "Oh god!" Roach nearly screamed as John shifted his hips constantly hitting a new spot inside of him with each thrust.

"You close, Gary?"

Roach only moaned in response, the barely audible sound of his name coming off his lover's lips in that damn Scottish brogue almost his undoing. Everything felt so _good_, so _dirty_ and he wanted it to last forever.

"Someone's going to hear you," John teased, now making sure he hit Gary's prostate with each thrust.

The new position only contributed to a steady stream of moans, whimpers and curses coming from the sergeant and he felt the beginnings of his orgasm rapidly approach. MacTavish was also breathing heavily at this point, signaling he was just as close.

Unable to hold out any longer, Roach gave into his pleasure, screaming his lover's name as came. A sweet pain arose in his shoulder as John bit down into his flesh, adding to the delicious feeling of the man releasing inside of him.

MacTavish slowly pulled out and did up his trousers, knowing it left Roach feeling empty again. He smiled to himself as he studied Roach who still had his legs spread and looked ready for another round despite the pearly liquid dripping down his leg.

"Clean yourself up sergeant." He pressed the butt plug into Roach's hands before opening the stall. "I expect you to be wearing it tonight." Before he could leave, the Scot was suddenly caught off guard as Gary pulled him close in what resulted as a sloppy mess of lips, tongues, and teeth.

"Yes sir." Roach smiled and unable to resist himself, John gave him a chaste kiss then exited the stall so his lover could clean up.

The bathroom door closed solidly behind him but MacTavish raised on eyebrow when he noticed a certain Brit leaning on the wall across from him. "New habit of yours?" he asked simply.

The man shrugged the question off. "Judging from the sound of it, I don't have to ask if your… _company_ was any good."

"Why so curious?" John inquired amusedly.

Both men suddenly looked over as a head poked out from behind a corner. "I thought you wanted to go to the shooting range?" Ghost called out.

"Yeah, I'll be there," Archer replied waving off the lieutenant. He turned back to MacTavish, a small grin on his face. "Just wondering what it takes to keep the captain's attention."**

* * *

**

**A/N:** I gained a love for Archer after writing my other story, so I couldn't resist including him. Maybe one day he'll arouse Soap's and Roach's interests. ;D


	2. Sleeping Roommate

**Warning: **This story contains explicit sexual content between _two men_ and will continue to do so (unless I write a threesome/moresome of some kind… uh, what?) This one's not so dirty though.

**Prompt: **Sleeping Roommate

* * *

Roach stared at the ceiling of his room, sleep not coming as readily as he would've liked. Chemo was snoring lightly in the bed across from his, whatever cold medicine the man had taken knocking him the fuck out. Roach sighed as his roommate turned onto his back, a position that guaranteed a night of loud snoring. Chemo didn't disappoint and mixed with his runny nose and coughing, Roach was treated to a symphony of sickness.

"Shut up," the sergeant muttered half heartedly, throwing one of his pillows across the room. It hit Chemo squarely in the face, but the man only grunted and then shifted slightly causing the pillow to fall to the floor. Roach vaguely contemplated suffocating the man before he decided to just take a walk and have a smoke, something that wouldn't help his current sleeping problem. But anything was better than staying in bed wasting time _trying _to fall asleep. Content with his decision, Roach kicked off his blanket and slipped into his untied and loosened boots, not bothering with more than the boxers he was already wearing as he shut the door behind him on his way out.

Only black shown from under the doors that lined the hallway, signifying each of his fellow Task Force teammates was asleep. Roach paused by a door at the sound of a faint creaking, heavy breathing and light moaning coming from behind it. He knew Meat was stuck in the medical ward with a concussion as well as a broken arm, so apparently Royce was taking advantage of having a room to himself and had snuck a woman on base.

Roach smiled to himself as a new plan of action to get to sleep suddenly came to mind. He left Royce to his business and proceeded down the hallway, his boots barely making a sound as he took each step.

Finally arriving at his destination, Roach gave the doorknob a slight twist to check if it was locked. It easily turned in his hand and he slipped inside, pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkened room. His gaze landed on a sleeping lump at one corner of the room.

Using years of training, Roach stealthily made his way to the sleeping lump and climbed onto his lover's bed, the bedsprings barely making a squeak. MacTavish shifted slightly in his sleep, but didn't stir. Roach grinned at the captain's state of undress, a pair of boxers the only things he was wearing. Most of them did only sleep in boxers with the occasional shirt on cooler nights, but with his current one track mind, seeing the hard planes of John's body sent all his blood south.

Not wanting to be alone in his thoughts, Roach straddled the sleeping Scot and bent over to lick a trail up his lover's body, first dipping his tongue into the man's bellybutton and slowly moving up, capturing John's lips with his own, tasting a subtle mint flavor from the man's toothpaste.

John was slow to open his eyes and the look on his face displayed one of confusion. "Riley?"

Roach looked down at his lover amusedly before grinding his hardness against MacTavish's hips, which earned him a hiss of pleasure from the man. He leaned forward so he could whisper in John's ear. "Why? Does the lieutenant usually crawl into bed with you?" He teased, shifting his hips again.

MacTavish's eyes adjusted to the dark and the outline of Roach's smaller build became obvious. He looked across the room at the other bed, where Ghost was still sleeping. "Why are you here?" he whispered, not wanting to wake up the sleeping lieutenant.

"Isn't it obvious?" Roach purred, his hands slipping beneath the waistband of John's boxers. MavTavish gasped as Roach moved his hands up and down his length, quickly bringing him to full arousal.

"I don't think Ghost will appreciate this," MacTavish uttered once he composed himself enough to speak. Gary moved down his body taking both of their boxers with him and tossing them onto the floor.

The sergeant looked up at him, his face hovering mere inches from where his hands were working his length. He flicked his tongue across his lips. "Well, he's not the one I'm fucking."

John shuddered as a pink tongue flicked over the head of his arousal.

Roach smirked. "I only care if you'll appreciate this."

Before John could push him off, not that he really cared to at this point, Roach took the entirety of his cock into his mouth. The wet heat that surrounded him now was only rivaled by the feeling of burying himself in his lover's arse. Gary hadn't always been so adept at using his mouth for things other than talking, but a summer of familiarizing himself with the shape of a popsicle proved how quick of a learner the sergeant really was.

Soap groaned, bucking his hips up, knowing he didn't need to treat Gary like glass. The sergeant had been through much worse and a little roughness in the bedroom wasn't going to break him.

Roach kept his hands on the bed to let MacTavish dictate the pace. He looked up to see that the Scotsman had shut his eyes and was biting the corner of his lip to restrain any moans. "You're not finishing without me," Roach teased as he pulled off, much to his lover's dismay. "Where's the lube?"

"We finished it the day we bought it," MacTavish replied, his accent thick with lust.

"We'll just have to make do then, won't we?" Roach leaned over gathering saliva in his mouth and letting it trail down John's cock, using one hand to spread it before teasing his thumb over the head.

"Fuck!" MacTavish bit down hard on his lip again before looking over to the other bed, where Ghost was sleeping.

"You better be quiet, Captain. Or he might wake up," Roach teased and moved up the Scot's body, placing love bites along the way before John pulled him up for a kiss.

"You know that Riley isn't a heavy sleeper, right?" MacTavish asked, tracing two fingers across Roach's lip before pressing the two digits inside.

Gary licked them up and down, enjoying the look on his lover's face as he did so. He took another digit into his mouth and mostly slobbered all over them due to the lack of any present lube. Satisfied, Roach spread his legs wider over the bed and John slipped a finger inside of him, adding a second and then the third. He pressed back against the moving digits, but after a few minutes of foreplay he was more than eager for something better.

MacTavish got the hint and pulled away, resting his hands on either of Roach's thighs as the sergeant readjusted his position. Roach slowly lowered himself onto his length, the feeling of a tight warmth engulfing him, a terrible tease, but the sight of his cock slowly disappearing inside of Gary's body, incredibly erotic.

Finally taking the full length of him, Roach wasted no time setting a quick pace, fully impaling himself with each downward thrust. Not wanting to be left out of the sergeant's fuck session John wrapped a hand around Gary's weeping arousal, earning a restrained groan from the man riding him.

Roach looked over at the other bed where Ghost shifted slightly in his sleep. "You think he's fisting himself to our fucking?"

"I don't think you're being loud enough." MacTavish smirked and thrust his hips up into Roach and an uninhibited moan made its way past the sergeant's lips.

"Fuck you," Roach growled, but looked more than happy with the added stimulation. He'd returned to biting his lip and his eyes slid shut to concentrate on the attention MacTavish was giving him.

As John felt the beginnings on his impeding orgasm, Roach quickened the pace, thrusting into the hand wrapped around his cock. It was Roach who came first, teeth digging painfully into his bottom lip. MacTavish soon followed, the throbbing tight heat of his lover's body after an orgasm never failing to throw out his self control.

Once their breathing slowed, Roach pulled off and rolled onto his side before pulling the blanket up and over him. MacTavish was left with the job of cleaning up and grabbed some tissue to wipe up the remnants of their encounter, throwing the dirtied tissue in the general direction of the trashcan. He was about to tell Gary he should probably head back to his room, but the sergeant had already fallen asleep.

Screw it, he'd deal with Ghost in the morning.  
~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghost slowly opened his eyes and turned to the digital clock he kept on his side table drawer. He vaguely remembered dreaming about something pleasant. But it never failed, he always woke up at the same time. Knowing his body wouldn't let him fall asleep so easily now that he was up, Riley sat up and looked over to his roommate. Usually the captain awoke before him, but another presence in the man's bed seemed to have hindered that occurrence.

"I thought no women in the rooms?" Ghost stated, slightly annoyed. MacTavish could've told him to sleep somewhere else last night.

MacTavish stirred at the sound of his voice and slowly sat up before a yawn over came him.

Riley didn't appreciate the fact MacTavish had been fucking someone while he'd been in the same room, but it was in the past and his sleep _had _gone uninterrupted. The thought of sounds in the night affecting his dreams made him wonder but Ghost disregarded the thought and ran a hand through his rust colored hair attempting to tame his bed head. The captain was slow to wake up, his bed partner still asleep, her entire body covered by the thick wool blanket. She wasn't very curvy…

MacTavish squinted, his eyes still getting used to the morning light. "About that…"

"_And _you let her spend the night, " Riley continued as he slipped on a shirt that he'd left on his bed the previous night. He'd already gotten over his annoyance, thoughts having moved onto breakfast, and was now just teasing his CO.

"Jealous?"

Something went off in Ghost's head when he realized he'd heard an American accent… in a man's voice.

Roach came out from under the covers and stretched, the blanket he shared with the Scot barely covering him. "To solve your problem, I'm not a woman."

"I don't need you to prove it. Put some bloody clothes on!" Riley yelled throwing a pair of trousers over as Roach began to move from under the covers.

Roach smiled getting out of bed and slipping on the offered clothes. "Now I can say I've been Riley's pants."


	3. Uniforms

**A/N: **A birthday present for **A Kiss for a Kill **who's been with me since the start, mostly because I bugged her to beta my first story. :P Thanks Trish. :) And just for you I made an attempt at smut _with plot_. Though not a very deep plot, a plot nevertheless. But _something_ sure as hell goes deep.

**Warning: ** Small bit of plot, explicit mansex… and crack. Slight crudity too.

**Prompt:** Uniforms

* * *

Several members of Task Force 141 stood on the balcony that overlooked the team's obstacle course watching as Roach and MacTavish loaded their M9s, the guns chosen for their capacity and to keep things as uniform as possible. Ghost held a stopwatch in his hand, while the others clutched their wallets betting on either the sergeant or their captain.

"Hey, Ghost. What was your time as a member of 'Delta Force'?" Jester asked, still debating who to put his money on.

Ghost smiled to himself remembering that some Rangers in Afghanistan had thought him and MacTavish were Delta when they'd run the course to see who could finish it faster. He'd lost to the Scot by 0.02 seconds and it pissed him off, but it was still better than anything the Rangers managed to do. "I finished in 18.28," he finally replied.

Jester laughed. "Does Roach really think he can beat the captain?"

Chemo pulled out his money and shrugged. "Different course, anything can happen…" he trailed off before finally betting fifty dollars on Roach.

"You serious?"

"Roach is betting a bill that he can beat MacTavish and he knows how fucking clumsy he is."

Toad was leaning back against the wall, finishing the last bits of his granola bar before speaking. "How'd this start anyway?"

Archer sat next to him, his legs propped up on the railing. "They've had competitions for everything since Monday."

"Like what?" Toad asked, stuffing the empty wrapper into one of his pockets.

"Mostly in stamina," Archer replied vaguely, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

The others placed their money in the empty coffee tin, half having sided with MacTavish. Ghost raised the stopwatch in the air, calling the attention of the two competitors. "You know the rules; eliminate all enemy targets, no casualties, best time wins." Ghost stuck to the shortened version because in the end, it really was only about the final time. A 'civilian casualty' was out of the question and neither man would leave an 'enemy combatant' alive. It was only a matter of who could carry out the task more efficiently.

Roach saw MacTavish nod to the lieutenant before holstering his weapon, allowing Roach to run the course first. "I'd figure you want to go first so you can catch supper in time," Roach muttered goading the captain.

MacTavish ignored the jab at his age and instead retaliated. "Merely letting the _woman _go first."

"I'm privy to some intel that hints you like taking it up ass as well," Roach smirked as he made his way to the gate leading to the first area. "No cheating."

Hating the feeling like he'd been told what to do, MacTavish gritted his teeth but didn't watch Roach enter and make his way through the course. Ghost had changed the locations and possibly the number of targets in each of the three arenas, so watching Roach work his way through would give MacTavish an unfair advantage.

At least two minutes must have passed before Roach approached him, looking slightly flushed with a thin sheet of sweat coating his body. He watched as a tongue ran over the sergeant's lips, a front of merely wanting to moisten chapped lips, but Roach's ulterior motive went straight to Soap's groin. _Fuck what his sergeant could do with that mouth. _

Seemingly oblivious to what he was doing to the other, Roach looked up at Ghost calling for the lieutenant to tell him his time, his request refused until MacTavish ran the course. He huffed, gave Ghost the finger then wished MacTavish a sarcastic 'good luck'.

"Ready?" Ghost called out once all the targets had been replaced and checked for stray hits in case Roach _had_ hit a civilian.

Roach smiled to himself as he watched MacTavish cross the threshold into the first arena. He knew he hadn't screwed up his run and there was no way the Scot would mess up… unless he had a little extra help.

Before a shot was even fired, the men on the balcony above Roach suddenly either cursed or cheered, depending on who they had bet on to win.

_If you're not cheating, you're not trying. _

And someone like MacTavish should never have let himself fall victim in the first place. Besides, it was only a hundred dollars, nothing compared to what others bet trying to drink the Scot under the table.

Roach was ready for the death glare his captain gave him as he walked over and he could only laugh at the frustration written all over that face.

"My gun jammed. Would you know anything about that?" It hadn't taken long to unjam it, but it added seconds to his time that he didn't really need.

"Sorry, Captain. Maybe next time," the reply was nonchalant, Roach's attention already having moved to Ghost who was announcing the times.

"Roach, 2.32 seconds. MacTavish, 2.57 seconds."

"Fuck!" Jester cursed loudly. Archer and Chemo each took two fifties from the coffee tin, having bet on Roach, while Ghost hadn't joined in the betting as the neutral party.

"So what next?"

"What about the shooting range?" Archer offered, his choice partial, for obvious reasons.

Roach shrugged, leaving the decision up to MacTavish. "I'll beat you either way," he continued, an arrogant smirk on his face.

"Shall we higher the stakes?" MacTavish proposed, still slightly miffed by the sergeant's actions.

"What? Even more money?" It wasn't a very exciting proposal since he never had the time to spend his whole paycheck anyway.

"I was thinking something a little closer to home. You were in the Marines, right?"

Roach frowned. "You already know, why ask?"

"I also know you hate wearing your dress blues," MacTavish smiled.

"Fuck you. Uniform kink?" He thought it over a moment, before agreeing. "Ready to lose Tavish?"

The small group of seven made their way to the shooting range, via two jeeps, MacTavish and Roach deciding the rules.

"What's our poison?" Roach asked and cracked his neck, despite the ride being relatively short.

Archer smiled and pulled two rifles from the back of the jeep he'd been riding in. "I was thinking bolt-action."

Roach frowned when confronted with the CheyTac Intervention. "Better than an M14, which I know _you_ loooove, Tavish."

The captain merely shrugged then looked through his scope, once again familiarizing himself with the weapon. He kneeled then got down on his stomach, the packed dirt beneath him, warm and the targets almost clear through the glass. It was still bright, the sun hadn't set yet, but it was still too hot for his liking, though MacTavish was grateful for the lack of winds.

"Practice shots?" Roach called over as he got into a similar position a few meters away.

"Archer and I zeroed the scopes this morning," Toad offered.

"Three shots each."

Toad laughed, "Don't trust us, Captain?"

"_Someone_ fucked with my M9."

The competitors took turns shooting at the closest target of 100 meters, satisfied that their bullets were going where they wanted them to go after taking into account the small breeze that blew past.

"Five people, five targets. Enough for you two?" Ghost asked, taking on his role as proctor, but not bothering to wait for an answer. The others picked up binoculars looking downrange. "Jester, call it."

"Fuck yeah, me first? 300 meter mark."

"Roach."

A shot fired and moments later Toad confirmed a hit, the others agreeing. MacTavish fired next, also a hit.

"Chemo, call it."

"800 meters."

"Fuck you," Roach cursed before he readjusted for the much farther distance and the wind that had picked up.

Once again, both men hit their targets and Ghost called out a distance of 500 meters.

Roach swore again, disliking the switch from near to far and back again. MacTavish, on the other hand, was zoned into his task, only paying enough attention to the others to know which target he needed to hit and if he had indeed hit it.

"Toad, call it."

"700 meters."

Both hits rang true, though Toad laughed quietly as he saw Roach's bullet hit low on the target, the sergeant obviously underestimating the laws of gravity. Each observer remained silent, providing no corrections for either sniper.

"Archer, call it."

"900 meters."

MacTavish fired his last shot and sat up, his opponent already watching the others for clues as to who had won. MacTavish was almost certain he'd hit all the targets, so either they needed a tiebreaker or Roach had lost.

"Looks like you'll have to play dress up for us," Ghost stated looking at Roach and confirming that the sergeant had indeed lost.

Roach swore, a lit cigarette having magically appeared between his lips. "When did you get so good?" he asked, his head turned to the captain.

"Did I forget to mention I was the team sniper when I was with the SAS?" MacTavish replied smugly.

"Fuck, dress blues are so fucking stuffy. Was looking forward to seeing you in uniform. Maybe you _ordering _me around in it," Roach offered, mostly resigned to the fact that he had lost, but hoping John took the bait.

"Not going to work. You lost."

"Would you have worn a kilt?" He smirked. "Gone commando?"

"Get dressed."

Roach smirked. "Never thought I'd hear_ those _words come out of your mouth."

"Yeah, yeah, get a room you two. Enough with the bragging that the rest of us have to resort to whores on the off chance we get some R and R," Jester said, waving his hand around as if clearing the air.

"You're free to join," Ghost laughed.

"Wait." Jester paused. "What!"

"Or watch," Archer continued.

"Ah, fuck. I need to get laid… by a _woman_ preferably."

The group made their way back to base and went their separate ways, the highlights of the afternoon over. MacTavish lingered at the doorway to the building and waited for Roach, who was finishing off the last of his water before he walked over.

"I lost to _you_. I'm not putting on a show for all the other pervs." Roach tossed the butt of his cigarette onto the ground and stepped on it with his boot before pulling his pack out again and offering one to MacTavish, who accepted. "Just be in my room at lights out."

"Just because you'll be in uniform, doesn't mean you can order me around."

Roach smiled and pulled the captain close, his lips finding the other's, pressing them together in a chaste kiss, though his roaming hands were anything but innocent. He finally moved away as if nothing had happened. "I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you? _Captain_."  
~~~~~~~~~~~

The figure staring back at him in the mirror was so comical that Roach would've laughed out loud if he wouldn't have sounded like a crazy person within the confines of his bathroom. He'd heard the door to his bedroom open and felt MacTavish lean against the bathroom door from the other side.

It was a stupid idea… really. But having the chance to catch John completely off guard was a better payout than all the money he'd won that week combined. At least that's what he tried to tell himself as he continued staring at the idiot in the mirror wearing what was _technically_ his own uniform. "Why am I doing this again?"

"Because you love me," MacTavish offered, his voice coming muffled through the wood.

"I'm sorry to break your heart, but I'm only here for the sex."

"Let me see…" the Scot's voice dropped an octave and Roach licked his lips at the sound of it.

"Is there a reason you're making me do this and not Simon? You two fuck enough."

"His legs aren't as nice as yours," MacTavish laughed softly.

Roach nearly choked at how close those words hit home, but decided to play along, "Doesn't stop you from wanting them wrapped around your waist."

MacTavish chuckled and Roach heard him move away from the door since it opened inward. "Well you're not as fucking _built_ as him."

"Fuck you."

"Just come out already."

"I did. That night you got me fucking plastered and had your way with me." Nevertheless, Roach opened the door smirking as he watched the captain's eyes go wide. He knew he looked like an idiot, but the feral look on his lover's face was enough to make the whole thing worth it. "Now stop gawking at me like a lecherous old man."

"What the hell is _that_?"

"You said you wanted me in a uniform."

"Aye…" MacTavish couldn't help it as his eyes moved up Roach's toned legs; legs that had no business accompanying… He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to remain on his lover's face. "I meant in _your_ fucking uniform!"

Roach stood in front of him wearing a white dress shirt, complete with a plain black tie, along with combat boots and a dark blue pleated skirt that was much too short for someone the sergeant's size.

"Don't like it?" Roach faced the wall and leaned against it, arching his back so his ass stuck out, revealing he wasn't wearing panties, but he also hadn't forgone underwear altogether, his cock still trapped within its confines, but the jockstrap left his ass completely bare.

The skirt obviously didn't belong on a man, but Soap couldn't help but feel himself harden at the sight once Roach lifted up the skirt, a hand on one arse cheek presenting himself for the taking.

"I'd have preferred you in your real uniform, but I have to admit this does make things a lot easier." Soap trapped Gary's body between his own and the wall, pressing his clothed arousal against the bared arse in front of him. His hands moved down smooth legs, the hairless skin a pleasant surprise. The body pressing into him was obviously male, the fact made absolutely clear when MacTavish moved his hands up and under the skirt, something nice and hard greeting him.

Roach breathed in deeply when he felt a hand ghost over his arousal and he ground his hips against Soap's, loving the feeling of something hard pressed against him.

"Where'd you get this?" Soap asked, his voice taking on a husky tone, his hand moving underneath the elastic of Roach's jockstrap, letting it snap back against the skin, eliciting a hiss of pain from the younger man.

"Been thinking about if for a while."

"What?" MacTavish lowered his voice as he slipped a finger inside of Roach. "Thinking about me fucking you like a girl?"

Roach laughed, simply enjoying the fingers that were gently moving inside of him. "Ten dolla? Everything you want. Me love you long time."

MacTavish laughed with him. "So you want me to fuck you like a whore?"

"I'll give you all the fake moans you want." His tone turn exaggerated, "Oh god, MacTavish, your cock is so fucking big and I'm dripping wet with need. Fuck me harder." A shit eating grin was plastered on his face as he turned to face MacTavish.

"You're a whore, not a woman."

"Sucky, sucky? Five dolla," Roach continued, resuming his role as the famous prostitute. Nevertheless he turned around and got to his knees, unbuckling John's belt, only pulling the jeans down as far as was necessary to be able to suck the captain off. Not bothering with the foreplay, Gary took the cock all the way down, sucking hard, MacTavish's hand on the back of his head, holding him in place as his throat was fucked.

Not wanting to release inside his lover's mouth, MacTavish pulled Roach to his feet then turned him around and shoved him against the wall, barely a moment passed before he pressed against the sergeant, burying his cock in his lover's arse.

"Holy fuck!" Roach groaned in pleasure at the sudden intrusion, thoughts of faking pleasure flying out of his head. However, the desire for the simultaneous pain that always accompanied their fucking remained and the captain obliged him, not bothering to wait for Roach to adjust.

MacTavish drove his hips into Gary's, fucking him with a primal need, his only desire to get off, using every bit of his strength to force himself deeper, fuck that arse harder. The intensity of their fucking hit its peak and MacTavish came inside of Roach who tightened around him as if milking him for his seed.

The two remained standing, mostly with the help of the wall before Soap had the sense to pull out and take a seat on the bed. He guided Roach, who was still wobbly on his legs before the sergeant straddled him, simply content in the pleasure of having a hard body pressed against his own.

MacTavish raised an eyebrow when he felt something sticky on his stomach, his shirt having ridden up as Roach straddled him.

"Don't say it," Gary said weakly, still recovering from getting thoroughly fucked. "I came like a fucking girl." He craned his neck backward then leaned forward and captured John's lips with his own, less concerned with technique and did it more out of a desire to be close.

"Like I said, you're a whore."

Getting a semblance of himself, Roach pushed the captain on his back and ground his ass against a half hard cock. "And if I remembered correctly, you paid for the whole night."


End file.
